


Just Put Your Hands On Me

by EliseEtcetera



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dry Humping, Explicit Consent, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Healing Sex, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Childhood Sexual Assault, Rape Recovery, Smuff, Smut, idk basically e has his first consensual sexual encounter with R and it heals him emotionally, is that the right tag?, or at least gets him on the right track, ugh this is so mushy, urm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2013-09-11
Packaged: 2017-12-26 06:19:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EliseEtcetera/pseuds/EliseEtcetera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've been dating for six months when Enjolras tells him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Put Your Hands On Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is so mushy I am embarrassed ugh  
> but the porn's good  
> At least I think it is  
> idk man just read it =)

It happens six months after they first start dating. It’s just like any other date; Chinese take-out and some classic movie that Grantaire can’t believe Enjolras hasn’t seen. Also just like any other date, Enjolras gets bored easily and drapes himself in Grantaire’s lap.

Grantaire lets a small moan fall from his mouth as Enjolras leans in to kiss him harder. He brings his hands up to tangle in Enjolras’ messy blond curls and smiles when Enjolras rewards him with a soft groan. Grantaire’s hands slowly slide down Enjolras’ body, coming to rest on the younger man’s ass.

And that’s when it all goes to hell.

Up until this point, this was the farthest the couple had gone. Grantaire knew Enjolras was a virgin, and he absolutely respected that. If make-out sessions were all Enjolras wanted, then that was fine, as far as Grantaire was concerned. Grantaire was thrilled just by being in a relationship with the man he’d wanted so badly for so long. And in all honesty, Grantaire didn’t even realize what he was doing; he just wanted Enjolras closer. The blond man smelled so good and was so warm that Grantaire just wanted to hide inside of him, forget the world, just for a little bit.

Enjolras yelps and immediately pulls away, fear covering his features as he scrambles out of Grantaire’s lap.

Grantaire’s eyes widen and he lifts his hands, palms up. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Are you OK?”

Enjolras looks up from where’s he’s sitting, curled into a ball, his arms hugging his knees. His eyes are bright with tears, but before they can fall, he buries his face in his hands.

“Fuck,” he cries, sniffling and sobbing into his hands. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck it!”

Grantaire swallows and slowly reaches a hand out to his boyfriend. “Enjolras, can I hold you?”

He sees Enjolras’ head nod minutely and quickly positions himself by Enjolras’ side. He wraps an arm around Enjolras’ shaking shoulders and pulls him in. Enjolras buries his face into Grantaire’s broad chest, wetting his t-shirt with his tears.

Grantaire brings a hand up to gently stroke Enjolras’ hair as he cries. He’s never seen this much emotion from Enjolras in all the time they’ve known each other, and to be honest, it’s a little scary.

After a few minutes, Enjolras’ sobs cease and he raises his head. He quickly wipes the few remaining tears from his face and avoids Grantaire’s eyes.

“I suppose I should explain.”

“You don’t have to,” Grantaire insists.

“No,” Enjolras shakes his head and looks up at the older man. “It’s time. I need to talk about it.”

Grantaire nods and waits for Enjolras to start.

“I was thirteen when it happened,” Enjolras says, his voice small and shaky. “My parents were out and I was home alone. There was a knock at the front door and it was my uncle; my mom’s sister’s husband. He said he’d left something there the last time he came over, so I let him in…and the next thing I knew, I was on the floor and he was pulling my clothes off.”

Enjolras’ breath hitches and a sob catches in his throat. “He took me right there in the front hall. Just fucked me. The whole time, I’m screaming and begging him to stop and he says nothing, not a single word.” He’s crying openly now, tears streaming down his face and his whole body shakes.

“And then he finished, stood, and left. Just left me there, a mess. I couldn’t move. I was so scared that he’d come back.” Enjolras squeezes his eyes shut and swallows a sob. “He never talked to me again after that. At all the family reunions and dinners, he never talked to me. Not until my graduation party, right before I went off to college. He pulled me aside and whispered in my ear, ‘You’ll always be beautiful’.”

Enjolras’ breath hitches as he finishes that sentence, the memory chilling his blood. “Combeferre’s the only one that knows. I never told anyone else. We were at a high school dance and some creep started grabbing me and I freaked out and I told Combeferre everything.”

Enjolras clenches his eyes shut angrily. “My parents were…absent when I was growing up. They weren’t really around to notice the changes in my behavior, or that I rarely left my room, or that I never used the front door anymore, or that I took three showers a day. They didn’t notice that my teachers were worried about me, or that I rarely talked.”

He inhales shakily and his voice comes out sounding like a scared little boy’s. “I still feel his hands on me, holding me down and clawing at me and I…I can’t make him stop, I can’t, I can’t get his hands off of me…”  

Enjolras falls silent, after that, crying softly into his hands and Grantaire doesn’t know what to say. ‘I’m sorry’ sounds pathetic. Tears are littering his own face and he doesn’t know what to do, so he does the only thing he can think of.

He pulls Enjolras closer and holds him, buries his face in that smooth, pale neck, and cries. He sobs into Enjolras’ shoulder, a broken mantra of “I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry” falling from his lips.

It’s a stupid thing to say, but it’s better than what he wants to say.

_How **dare** he?_

_I’ll kill him._

_Make him bleed._

_Beg for his life._

_How could he do that to you?_

_You are still perfect._

_You will always be perfect to me._

And somehow, Enjolras hears this through the stupid mantra that Grantaire can’t stop saying and he presses a kiss to Grantaire’s lips before dissolving into his own tears and sobs again.

After they finish crying, they sit there, curled together on the floor, soaking in each other’s warmth.

“I do want to be intimate,” Enjolras says, resting his hand on Grantaire’s chest as he looks up at the dark haired man. “With you. I really want that.”

Grantaire nods, his own hand coming up to curl around Enjolras’. “I want that, too,” he whispers.

“I just—“ Enjolras cuts himself off with a trembling breath. “We need to go slow, OK?”

“Of course,” Grantaire says, squeezing Enjolras’ hand reassuringly. “It’s not a problem, at all.”

A tear runs down Enjolras’ cheek. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed with me, because it’s going to take a while and it’s going to be hard and I’m going to cry a lot and I don’t want you to hate me because I’m not a good boyfriend.”

Grantaire brings his hands up to cup Enjolras’ face and he kisses the blond man so passionately that Enjolras can’t help but whimper. When they break, Grantaire looks Enjolras in the eyes and says, “Enjolras, listen to me. You are the most important person in the whole fucking world to me. I have never cared about anyone as much as I care about you.” He leans in for another kiss. “Even if we go no further than this, I will still be the happiest man alive because I have you. As long as I have you, everything is perfect. Please believe me,” Grantaire gasps, emotion flooding his chest. “I love you so much, so, so, so much.”

Enjolras kisses him fiercely, tears falling off his face and onto Grantaire’s. “I love you, too.”

\---

It’s a month later, another Chinese take-out and classic movie date night, when Enjolras takes Grantaire’s hand, squeezes it tightly and says, “I want to try tonight.”

Grantaire freezes, his eyes wide, and looks at Enjolras. “Are you sure?”

Enjolras smiles and nods, crawls into Grantaire’s lap and nuzzles his neck before kissing the pale skin. “Just…let me take my time, OK?”

Grantaire cups Enjolras’ face and presses a soft kiss to his lips. “You’re in charge here, Enj. We’ll do as little or as much as you want.”

Enjolras nods again and squirms a little in Grantaire’s lap. “I don’t think I’m ready for anything…penetrative, for you or for me.”

Grantaire squeezes their still intertwined hands and whispers, “That’s OK. It’s all OK, Just do what you’re comfortable doing.”

They stand and Enjolras leads them to the bedroom. Grantaire pretends not to notice the slight tremor in Enjolras’ hand and wraps his arm around the taller man’s waist.

When they reach the bed, Enjolras gently pushes Grantaire to lie on the mattress, his upper half propped up by the multitude of pillows Enjolras keeps there.  Enjolras joins him a few moments later and straddles the older man’s hips. His hands are shaky as he slides them over Grantaire’s chest, tugs at the hem of his shirt, presses against his abs.

Grantaire’s own hands are gripping the sheets below him, wanting to touch the beautiful man above him but afraid of spooking him. He leans forward when Enjolras starts pulling his shirt off and his hands come up to rest on Enjolras’ shoulder blades.

Enjolras gasps a little but doesn’t move away and Grantaire takes this as a good sign.

He leans up again, this time to press his lips to Enjolras’ in a soft kiss.

“Can I take this off?” Grantaire gasps when they break, his fingers slowly curling around the hem of Enjolras’ t-shirt.

Enjolras nods, bites his lip, and lifts his arms as Grantaire tugs the fabric from his body. He leans forward, pressing their bare torsos together and kisses the older man again.

Grantaire keeps his hands on Enjolras’ shoulders as they kiss,  not wanting to startle the younger man by moving them too quickly. After a minute or so, Enjolras brings his own hands up to wrap around Grantaire’s wrists.

“You can touch me,” he pants against Grantaire lips, stealing another sweet kiss.

“OK,” Grantaire breathes,  slowly sliding his hands down Enjolras’ torso, stopping right under his ribcage. “This is alright?”

Enjolras nods and nuzzles Grantaire’s jaw. “Just…stay above the waist for now, OK?”

Grantaire presses a kiss to Enjolras’ forehead and slides his fingers over the blond’s sides, grinning when a shiver runs down his spine. “No problem.”

Enjolras tilts his head up to kiss Grantaire again, his own fingers cupping Grantaire’s stubble-covered cheeks. They kiss like this for a while, breathing each other in, enjoying the feel of skin against skin.

And Grantaire gets a little nervous.

He’s getting hard, swelling in his jeans, and _dammit,_ he really doesn’t want to have an erection right now. He knows Enjolras is going to feel it any minute now and most likely get spooked. He tries to pull away, just enough to warn the blond man, but Enjolras is kissing him like a dying man drinks water, so Grantaire squeezes his eyes shut and hopes for the best.

The best does not happen.

Enjolras freezes, his eyes going wide and Grantaire can _feel_ the panic rushing through Enjolras’ body, under his skin.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he gasps, taking his hands away from Enjolras’ body as the younger man pulls away.  He can see tears gathering in Enjolras’ frightened blue eyes and, God, he hates himself. “I’m so sorry, Enj, I—“

Enjolras is still straddling Grantaire’s waist, his shaky hands resting on the older man’s chest. “No, no, it’s not your fault, it’s OK,” he gasps, closing his eyes and letting a couple tears fall onto his cheeks. “It’s a natural reaction, it’s OK, you won’t hurt me, it’s OK.”

He sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself and not Grantaire, but then he opens his eyes and, even though he’s still crying a little, smiles down at Grantaire.

Grantaire looks worriedly up at Enjolras, brings his hands up to curl around the blond’s wrists. “Do you want to stop?”

Enjolras shakes his head frantically, sending tiny drops of salty water flying through the air. “N-no, no, I’m alright.”

“Enjolras, you’re crying!”

The younger man sighs and squeezes Grantaire’s hands reassuringly. “I told you I’d probably cry. I don’t need to stop, I promise.” Enjolras leans down to press their chests together again. He’s silent for a few minutes, collecting his composure and kissing Grantaire slowly.

 “I just didn’t expect you get hard so quickly.”

Grantaire snorts a laugh and kisses Enjolras’ forehead. “You have grossly underestimated my attraction to you, Enj.”

The blond hesitantly shifts his hips, pressing against Grantaire’s hardening cock. “Obviously.”

Grantaire moans lowly before cupping Enjolras’ face. “Hey, you don’t have to do this. Any of this. You can stop right now if you’re not comfortable, OK?”

Enjolras smiles and kisses Grantaire sweetly before shifting his hips again. “And if I _am_ comfortable?”

Grantaire notices something hard pressing against his stomach and looks up at Enjolras, who grins at him widely.

“You dog,” Grantaire teases, kissing Enjolras again and moaning into his mouth when Enjolras moves his hips again, more firmly this time.

Grantaire tentatively rocks his own hips up, carefully watching Enjolras’ face to gauge his reaction. A moan catches in Enjolras’ throat and Grantaire watches pleasure flit across his features.

“Do that again,” Enjolras gasps, grinding down.

Grantaire obeys, anchoring his hands on Enjolras’ sides, and rocks up to meet the blond’s downward thrusts. They find a rhythm, quick and desperate and steady, that has them panting and moaning and clutching at each other’s skin. Their hardened cocks brush against each other through their jeans and it takes all the self-control Grantaire has to not grab Enjolras’ ass and thrust up harder. Their lips are practically glued together in messy, eager,  open-mouthed kisses, and, God, it’s incredible.

“F-fuck,” Enjolras gasps, his teeth catching on Grantaire’s bottom lip. Grantaire lifts a hand from Enjolras’ side and cups his face gently.

“Enj,” he gasps, trying to find the breath to speak. “Enj…do you want to finish like this?”

The younger man slows his movements, not stopping completely, just rolling his hips lazily. He pauses, bites his lip nervously and presses his face into Grantaire’s neck.

“Wanna touch you,” he mumbles into the pale skin.

Grantaire’s heart skips a beat and he stops breathing for a few moments. “You don’t have to,” he chokes out.

Enjolras lifts his head, kisses the dark-haired man passionately, and runs his hands along Grantaire’s sides. “I really want to,” he whispers.

Grantaire nods, kisses him again. “Do you want me to touch you?”

Enjolras pauses and his eyebrows knit together in frustration. “I _want_ you to, I just don’t know if I can—fuck, why can’t I do this?!”

He rolls off of Grantaire and practically throws himself face down into the mattress. Grantaire bites his lip and carefully places a hand on Enjolras ‘ bare back. “Enjolras, can I hold you?”

Grantaire receives his answer in the form of Enjolras turning and clinging to him, shoving his face into Grantaire’s messy curls. He can hear Enjolras sniffling, can feel the tremors shuddering through his body.

He presses soft kisses to Enjolras’ neck, runs his hands through those blond locks, pulls him closer.

Enjolras regains his composure quite fast, pulls away slightly to look Grantaire in the eyes as he whispers, “Please touch me, R. Please, I need you to.”

“Are you sure?” Grantaire asks, his hands cupping Enjolras’ face, smoothing his thumbs over the blond’s sharp cheekbones.

“Yes,” Enjolras breathes, his eyes slipping closed. “I don’t want to feel his hands anymore. I want to feel you, just you, only you. Please,” Enjolras begs,  leaning forward to capture Grantaire’s lips in a fierce kiss. “Please, Grantaire, please do this for me.”

“OK,” Grantaire pants against Enjolras’ lips. “Together, we’ll do this together, OK?”

He removes his hands from Enjolras’ face to tug at the fastenings of his jeans, looking up at Enjolras for permission.

Enjolras nods and his shaky hands start opening his own jeans.

Soon, they’re both in their underwear and Grantaire reaches for Enjolras’ hand and squeezes it tightly. “Do you want to be on top of me again?”

Enjolras nods and straddles Grantaire again, moans falling from both of their lips when their cocks brush together.

Enjolras’ hands trail down Grantaire’s torso until they reach the waistband of his boxer-briefs. His fingers curl around the top, not tugging, just asking permission.

Grantaire lifts his hips in lieu of an answer and within seconds, he’s naked, hard cock exposed, resting on his belly.

Enjolras’ breathing quickens when his eyes land on the erect flesh, instinct telling him to stroke it or rub against, do something to make Grantaire feel good.

He slides Grantaire’s hands to the waistband of his own briefs, curls the older man’s fingers around the fabric.

Grantaire’s eyes are wide when he tears his gaze away from the bulge in Enjolras’ underwear. The expression on Grantaire’s face asks the question plainly and Enjolras bites his lip before nodding, releasing the grip on Grantaire’s hands.

Grantaire pulls the fabric off painfully slow, as if he’s giving Enjolras a chance to back out. But Enjolras doesn’t, just holds his breath, keeps his eyes focused on Grantaire’s face.

He moans softly when the air hits his leaking cock, lifts each leg to help Grantaire remove the briefs and then he’s naked.

He’s naked and Grantaire’s naked.

They’re naked together.

A trembling hand reaches for Grantaire’s and clasps it tightly. Grantaire exhales sharply and squeezes back just as tight.

“You’re good?” He asks, his voice thick with emotion.

Enjolras nods and a smile pulls at his lips. He takes Grantaire’s free hand in his and guides it to his hip. “Touch me, “ he breathes,  rolling his hips and pressing their cocks together.

They both moan, the sound echoing through the room. Grantaire urges Enjolras to lean forward, sliding their precome-slicked cocks against each other, until Enjolras’ chest collides with Grantaire’s own again.

Their lips clash in messy, desperate kiss, moans intermingled with their breath as their hips push together.

“God,” Enjolras pants against Grantaire’s jaw. Their hips have returned to their earlier rhythm, the pleasure intensified with the lack of clothing between them.

Grantaire’s arm slides in between their bodies and he curls his hand around both their cocks, stroking slowly and flicking his thumb over Enjolras’ slit.

The blond man moans, pushes up onto his forearms to give Grantaire more room.  “I love you,” he gasps, tears falling from his eyes and landing in Grantaire’s wild curls. He speeds up his thrusts, pushes down against Grantaire’s hips harder.

Grantaire’s free hand comes up to grip at the back of Enjolras’ neck,  pressing their foreheads together. They breathe each other’s air, gasping as the friction between them increases.

Grantaire climaxes first; his back arches as he throws his head back, curls flying. Whimpers fall from his lips, then dissolve into breathy, high-pitched moans mixed with syllables of Enjolras’ name. The hand on the back of Enjolras’ neck clutches at the flesh, nails digging in.

Enjolras watches with wide eyes, still grinding, thrusting, drinking in every erratic, orgasmic movement Grantaire makes. He moans at the feeling of Grantaire’s come splattering over their cocks and Grantaire’s hand and both of their bellies.

And then Grantaire opens his eyes the second he starts to come down and _looks_ at Enjolras, hazy and blissed out and then Grantaire curls his hand just around Enjolras’ dick and strokes hard and fast and _fuck_ , Enjolras is not going to last.

And he doesn’t; a couple of tugs and Enjolras’ eyes are rolling back into his head, his entire body freezes as orgasm ravages his veins and a cry just short of a scream tears itself from his throat. His world narrows down to everywhere Grantaire is touching him, the hand on his cock, the legs behind him the hand clutching his own and oh, _God_ , the pleasure lasts forever and is over far too quickly.  

He collapses onto Grantaire’s chest, panting and gasping and searching for a kiss.

Grantaire senses this and pulls him in and it’s the best kiss they’ve shared all night because Enjolras isn’t scared anymore and Grantaire’s hands are all over him.

“Grantaire,” he sobs, tears falling once again. “Oh, God, I love you, I love you so much—“ He cuts himself off with another kiss.

“Was it OK? Are you OK?” Grantaire asks when they break, his clean hand sweeping through Enjolras’ hair.

“Perfectperfectperfect,” Enjolras mumbles, clinging to Grantaire like a lifeline. “I don’t feel him anymore, just you, only you, I love you,” Enjolras trails off into a stifled sob, and buries his face in Grantaire’s chest.

Grantaire lets a sob fall from his lips, his vision blurring with tears. “I love you, too, oh, God, so much.”

They kiss again, their hands trailing over each other’s bodies, and it’s finally OK.

**Author's Note:**

> Original Thread: http://makinghugospin.livejournal.com/13488.html?thread=10645680#t10645680
> 
> Title from Hands On Me by Vanessa Carlton.
> 
> pooooooorrrrrrrnnnnnn *throws glitter*


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